


Winter's Interlude

by fn_nancy



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: F/M, I'm bad at tagging sorry, Smut, Some angst, a hint of fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-28
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-12-25 21:39:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18269813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fn_nancy/pseuds/fn_nancy
Summary: "Enemies don't save each other's lives." After Joseph falls into a frozen river, Sam opts to help him, against her better judgment.





	Winter's Interlude

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NaroMoreau](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaroMoreau/gifts).



After the night she just had, Sam could hardly believe her good luck.

Yesterday evening, a clash with some Peggies had separated her from Sharky, and she ended up having to run since the two of them were so vastly outnumbered. They pursued her, of course, but she’d shaken them off in a forest that she soon lost her own way in. At least she’d managed to verify via radio that Sharky had made it out okay before its battery promptly died.

So for the rest of the evening, she’d trudged through snow varying from ankle-deep to thigh-deep, trying to find a house, a road, _anything_ , huddling in her jacket and wishing her gloves were thicker. At least the trees, leafless as they were, kept the most of the wind away.

Night had nearly fallen when she finally found adequate shelter, in what looked to be an abandoned house, and the fact that its furnishings and other supplies hadn’t yet been looted only emphasized how out of the way she was.

Exhausted when she woke, she still pressed on. Getting back to civilization, not to mention communication with the Resistance, was worth a couple less hours of sleep. She hated being alone.

Soon she found a river, entirely frozen over by the looks of it, and followed it eastward, figuring she’d have to hit something sooner or later.

Which brought her to now, the now which suddenly made everything worth it:

Joseph Seed, a drab brown coat buttoned up to his throat, stood just twenty feet away by her estimation, right across the river. A gun-toting Peggie accompanied him, but Sam figured the woman would be easily dealt with, so long as she couldn’t raise an alarm before Sam disposed of her.

As soon as she spotted Joseph and his companion, their backs to her, she dove behind a conveniently-placed boulder and planned her attack. She could hear their murmurs, although she couldn’t quite make out their exact words. Sam had to admit, she was almost shocked to see him dressed for the weather, and for once she was almost glad for the cold, since it clearly meant that Joseph couldn’t parade around distractingly bare-chested as he was wont to do.

If she could manage to arrest him now, and bring him somewhere secure out of Peggie influence, it could very well end this silly war. Maybe with their precious leader gone, the Peggies would finally begin to see some sense. She certainly hoped so.

For a while Joseph and the woman stopped talking, so long that Sam almost started to think they’d somehow left without making a sound, but suddenly Joseph spoke, and she strained her ears to hear him:

“You may return home, Hannah. I’ll stay here a little while longer.”

“Are you sure, Father?”

“Go, my child.”

And with that, Sam heard the retreating footfalls of boots crunching snow. Now was her perfect chance—get across the river, incapacitate and restrain him, then get to safety. She waited until the footsteps faded away entirely then counted to sixty, steeling herself for what she had to do next.

Joseph’s voice called out on the otherwise silent wintry day. “You may come out, now. We’re alone.”

She stilled. He couldn’t possibly have seen or heard her. He must be trying to gauge whether someone was here by faking them out, that was all. She only had to wait until his guard was down, and then …

“Samantha, you may come out from behind that boulder. I promise, I won’t harm you in any way.”

 _Shit._ She didn’t know how he’d done it, but there was little use in staying out of sight now. Better to be able to see him. She stepped away from her cover, scanning the area for Peggies; at least there wasn’t any foliage for an ambush to hide behind, not that that was much of a comfort.

“I have a feeling your personal definition of the word ‘harm’ differs from the actual meaning,” she said by way of greeting.

Joseph raised his hands before him in a placating gesture. “I only wish to speak with you.”

“About what?”

“You.” He paused, probably for dramatic effect. “Your pain.”

Sam forced out a laugh. “Right about now, my only pain is you and your followers destroying this beautiful county.”

“You are not as confident as you make yourself seem.” He stepped out onto the ice, his blue eyes piercing, but she met him gaze for gaze. “I know what happened to your unit in Afghanistan, Samantha. I know your guilt.”

Her breath hitched in her throat, but she kept her face carefully composed, chin held high. He continued to make his way to her, practically gliding across the ice, and she for one welcomed his approach—the closer he got, the easier it would be to immobilize him. She was the one with the gun, after all. She surreptitiously scanned the area again, making sure they were well and truly alone.

He spread his arms in earnest entreaty; he’d made it about halfway across the river, now, and he wasn’t slowing down. “You need not feel that way. If you join my family, become one of my children, I can offer all that you—” A distinct _crack_ cut him off, and his expression of calm confidence was quickly replaced by confused fear.

Sam would have laughed at the sight, if the ice directly beneath him hadn’t promptly shattered, plunging him completely into the frigid water.

He soon resurfaced, gasping and sputtering, but all his attempts to scramble back up on the ice only succeeded in fragmenting it more. Without thought, Sam carefully stepped out and slowly shuffled toward him. He stopped his struggling to watch her approach. When she reached as close to him as she dared to venture, she crouched and offered him her hand. “Here.”

When he took it, she nearly gasped; the freezing water that drenched his own gloves quickly seeped through hers. Still, she kept a firm grip, pulling him up with both hands clasped over his. He kicked his legs out, keeping his body as horizontal as he could so he wouldn’t put enough weight on the ice to break it.

They made slow enough progress, but finally, Sam pulled a violently shivering Joseph back onto the ice.

“The closest shelter I know of is about a mile away from here,” she said, starting for the shore. “There’s blankets, plus supplies for making a fire. Do you know of anything closer?”

“No,” he said, faintly. “Thank you for helping me.”

She didn’t answer.

It would take just under half an hour to reach the house. Her hands were numb just from her gloves being soaked, so she couldn’t even imagine how Joseph felt, being completely drenched from head to toe.

She worried for his safety, despite knowing she shouldn’t—he was her enemy, after all. Really, what she should do is leave him to fend for himself, leave him to likely die. That would be the most convenient thing to do.

Sometimes, Sam wasn’t much good at doing what she _should_.

By the time they reached their destination, Sam was shivering, but Joseph wasn’t. She didn’t know whether that was a good sign or not, but she guessed not.

“Sit there,” she said, pointing to the sofa in front of the fireplace. “I’ll get some blankets.” She promptly left, not bothering to see what he did. Lucky she’d stayed here the night before, so she knew where everything was. Even luckier that the Peggies, or people displaced by the Peggies, hadn’t looted the place either.

So once she gathered an armful of blankets, all of varying sizes and textures, she returned to the living room.

Joseph sat on the sofa, his eyes closed.

She frowned. “Joseph?”

He didn’t answer—didn’t even stir. Swallowing thickly, Sam approached him. “Joseph?” she repeated. Still nothing. Cautiously, she bent down to put two fingers under his chin, and discovered his pulse was faint.

 _Fuck._ She couldn’t let herself hesitate. She removed his drenched clothing, trying very hard not to dwell on the sight of any of his exposed skin, then swathed him in blankets. As far as she could tell he didn’t have any body heat for the blankets to insulate, but the thought of what she would have to do if he couldn’t survive off his own body heat … was flustering, to say the least.

She occupied herself with getting a fire started, and thanked her lucky stars that it only took a few minutes for the kindling to catch. From experience, she knew the room would be nice and toasty in no time.

Her luck seemed to have finally run out, however, because a touch on Joseph’s shoulder beneath the blankets confirmed her worst fear: he was still as freezing as ever. In a panic she put her hand to his neck once more, feeling for his pulse, and sighed with relief when she found it—it was there, but faint. Very faint.

She had to do it: if he couldn’t survive on his own body heat, then she’d have to share hers. But worse than the necessity of it, she found there was a traitorous part of her that wasn’t at _all_ opposed to pressing up against his naked chest and—

Quick as she could, she removed her clothing—all of it. She then lifted the blankets from Joseph and seated herself on his lap, wrapping the blankets around both their shoulders. She pressed herself as tightly against him as she could, chest-to-chest, cheek-to-cheek, bunching her fists in his armpits. He was so much bigger than her that she didn’t even know if it would work, but she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t try.

In a way it was good that he felt like little more than a corpse, because that helped to ward off any wayward thoughts she may have had about their predicament. She closed her eyes, letting her forehead fall to his shoulder.

“You stupid bastard, you can’t die on me,” she whispered hoarsely. “Idiot, walking out on thin ice like that.” Never mind that she’d considered doing the same. “I know you think you’re God’s prophet or whatever, but that doesn’t mean you can walk on water, dumbass. At least you were dressed for the weather for once, I guess—” She suddenly cut off, heat somehow finding its way to her cheeks.

Well, it wasn’t like he could hear her anyway. “It shouldn’t even be legal for a damn cult leader to be that hot. You know, for someone who rails against the sin of lust, you’re sure complacent about inciting it in others, going around shirtless like that all the time. Well, not all the time, but you know what I mean. Or not, since you’re … unconscious and all.” She knew she was rambling, but rambling was the only thing she could do to break the unbearable silence.

After a bit, her eyelids grew heavy; her fatigue was catching up with her, it seemed, calling her to sleep. The fire was starting to warm the blankets on her back and it felt so heavenly, so she just had to …

Seemingly seconds later, a rumbling groan from Joseph woke her. With a start, she realized it was warm, _very_ warm, and no wonder, since the fire roared away behind her. Even through all the blankets, its heat was almost scorching on her back. By the golden light filtering in through the windows, it must have been evening.

Joseph groaned again, breaking her out of her daze, and she gave another start upon the realization that they were still pressed together, bodies slick with sweat. They fit so well together that she hadn’t even noticed until now, and _that_ realization made her bolt up, stumbling away from him.

Joseph’s eyes snapped open and focused groggily on her. She wrapped the blankets ever more tightly around herself, at least until she took note of his utter nakedness and _half-erect_ —

She hastily tossed a pair of blankets on his lap, the heat emanating from her cheeks rivaling that of the roaring fire. _At least I’m not the only one who’s fucking turned on._

“Samantha?” Cognizance finally seemed to reach him, and he glanced around the room, taking everything in. “I … ah, I see. Where are we?”

She cleared her throat. “An abandoned house not far from the river.” She shifted uneasily, and her foot nudged something cold and wet. Oh, his clothes.

They were no longer on the point of being frozen, but they were still quite soggy, mostly owing to the fact that in her panic, she’d just tossed them haphazardly on the floor. She busied herself with laying them out in front of the fire.

When she turned, Joseph was standing, fortunately with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, although _un_ fortunately, it barely reached his knees. Was it normal to find a man’s calves hot?

“You saved my life,” he said. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she said automatically. _No problem?_ This was nothing _but_ a problem.

“It isn’t,” he persisted. “It would have been more conducive to your cause to let me struggle and die. So I ask you: why? Why did you save me, your greatest enemy, when you’ve had no problem thus far with killing my children?”

Her mouth twisted in a grimace. “I don’t kill your followers because I like it—I do it because I must.”

He nodded and said nothing, still staring at her. Embarrassed but unwilling to show it, Sam turned to take the poker and push at the burning logs, even though they didn’t need it. She eyed her clothes, strewn about the floor. They were a little wet from being piled with his, but she thought they were dry enough to put on and be on her way. She wouldn’t even arrest him—if she stayed with him any longer, she might do something stupid. She didn’t know how, but she just knew.

Mind-reader that he apparently was, Joseph said, “Are you thinking of leaving so soon?”

“Why not?” She glanced back at him. “Like you said, I’m your greatest enemy.”

He shook his head. “I said I was _your_ greatest enemy, or at least that I suppose you think that of me—not that I consider you mine.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that even supposed to mean? Your people have killed mine, by your orders, just as I’ve killed yours. We’re enemies. That’s it.”

“Enemies don’t save each other’s lives,” he murmured.

He stepped closer to her, his eyes locked on hers; she glared right back up at him, too stubborn to look away. “I’ve always sensed something different about you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Perhaps that is why.” Her heart fluttered when he glanced at her lips, then back up again, an unasked question in his eyes.

 _Fuck it_ , she thought, and closed the gap between them, pulling his head down and pressing her lips against his. The blankets fell from her shoulders.

Joseph groaned into the kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her closer against him. Sam reached up to twist her fingers in his hair, barely suppressing her own moan.

She removed his own blanket from his shoulders, and savoured the feeling of his lean muscles against her fingertips. When she felt his cock nudging against her thigh, she reached down to grasp it in both hands, catching his gasp against her lips. She was _ready_ , and so, it seemed, was he.

“Wait,” he said, pulling away slightly, only to gently push her back onto the sofa. He knelt down before her and set his hands on the outside of her spread thighs; she could only watch through half-lidded eyes.

Next he pressed fervent kisses along her inner thighs, the softness of his lips contrasting with the roughness of his beard. “Joseph,” she breathed, leaning back against the sofa. He reached forward to press a firm kiss against her clit, causing her thighs to twitch, and at his soft laugh against her sex, she threw her head back against the sofa, practically trembling beneath his touch. It was too much, yet at the same time, not enough.

From there, his tongue delved deftly between her folds, and try as she might, she couldn’t stop herself from grinding against his mouth. He placed his hands on her hips to still her, and when he placed his lips on her clit and _sucked_ , she didn’t even bother to hold back her low, needy whine.

“Please, Joseph,” she moaned. “I want you to fuck me.”

He looked up at her, his pupils large and dark. “Are you sure?”

It was all Sam could manage to nod.

She shifted to lay back on the sofa, and Joseph moved to straddle atop her, his chest brushing against her breasts as he breathlessly kissed her. The taste of herself on his lips was enough to make her arch up into him; he took the hint, and slowly pushed inside of her.

Sam arched into him even more, thighs locked around his hips, arms wrapped around his back, fingers digging into his flesh. They began to move together, at first slowly, then speeding up.

Joseph buried his face in her neck, groaning as he fucked her deeply, and she echoed when he slid his hand between them and insistently rubbed his fingertips against her clit.

“Fuck,” she breathed out; the end was rapidly approaching, for her as well as Joseph, for his thrusts began to grow erratic.

“Samantha,” he moaned into the crook of her neck, and that was all it took.

They reached their shuddering, gasping release together, riding waves of pleasure until they finally ebbed. Panting, Joseph pulled out of her, and when her eyes met his, he smiled.

“You are simply divine,” he murmured, brushing the backs of his fingers against her cheek.

 _It didn’t mean anything_ , Sam thought as Joseph prepared them for sleep, as night had fallen while they had been … otherwise occupied. He gathered a large blanket from the pile then lay beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest. _It was just sex._ Even so, she leaned into his touch as he pressed a kiss against her forehead.

Joseph fell into peaceful sleep, but she didn’t. She couldn’t. Uneasy thoughts whirled in her mind.

She somehow managed to untangle her limbs from his without waking him, then rose to take her clothes from the floor. They were completely dry—good. She put them on, grabbed her gun, then paused at the door to watch Joseph’s sleeping form. She didn’t regret their time together; she enjoyed it immensely, and would do it again if given half a chance.

But … she needed to get away, to clear her head, and it was abundantly clear that she couldn’t do so in his presence.

So she slipped out, hoping Addie wouldn’t ask _too_ many impertinent questions when she requested a morning-after pill.


End file.
